


only fools fall for you

by dnc31



Series: and they were roommates [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Secret Crush, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 16:11:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnc31/pseuds/dnc31
Summary: alex is cold and there's only one solution.





	only fools fall for you

Leaning against the side of the living room entrance, Alex watches as his roommate engrosses himself in a baseball game playing quietly on the television.

“Who’s playing?” Alex asks, pushing himself off the wall and walking into the room. He plops down himself on the couch next to George. Alex doesn’t really care what the answer is, but he asks anyway.

“Yankees,” George replies, not looking at Alex. He’s too invested in the game. And that’s okay because that means more time Alex can spend watching George without getting caught.

“Oh.” Alex scrunches up his nose and moves his legs so that he is sitting in a criss-cross position. He slumps down against the arm of the couch and admires George’s profile for a few minutes. There’s a certain thrill to the idea of getting caught watching George, but there is also embarrassment. The thought of the embarrassment snaps Alex out of his admiration.

His phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants so Alex pulls it out, seeing John has texted him. Alex responds to the message and then checks Twitter afterward. He messes around on the app for a few minutes, until he shivers, realizing how cold it is in the room. It’s mid-October and the only thing Alex has on is a pair of checkered pajama bottoms and an old, threadbare Columbia t-shirt, probably from his freshman year.

“I’m cold,” he says to George. “I’m going to go put a sweater on.” His roommate just hums in response, a little too invested in the game to really comprehend what Alex is saying.

Sliding off the couch, Alex pads out of the living room and heads down the hallway to his bedroom. As soon as he reaches his room, Alex goes straight to the closet, and searches for a sweatshirt, only to realize his are all dirty. He groans, realizing his only options are to wait for one to wash and dry, or to take one from George’s closet.

Of course, the latter _shouldn’t_ be such an unfavorable option, but the trouble is, George’s sweatshirts all smell like him and that scent is Alex’s favorite. Anytime George lends him a sweatshirt, Alex never wants to give it back.

But, Alex refuses to stand shivering in their brutally cold basement to wait for a sweatshirt to wash and dry, so he makes his way to George’s bedroom. Alex flicks on the light and then sifts through the dresser drawer where his roommate keeps his sweaters.

He finds the perfect one, which is also his favorite. A soft, navy blue pullover with East Hampton etched across the front that George had picked up years ago during a trip. The everlasting scents of George’s cologne and also the man himself continuously linger on it.

Alex pulls on the sweatshirt, which is tight on George but still far too large for Alex’s small frame, and revels in the aroma that fills his nose. He knows he should feel a little guilty for taking it without asking his roommate, but Alex can’t be.

He pulls his hair out of its tousled bun and walks back to the living room. When he returns to the room, Alex seats himself back down next to George. The room is dark, George having shut off the lights about an hour ago because of a headache that has since gone, but regardless, George still notices that Alex has put on his sweatshirt.

“Is that mine?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

Alex shifts in his seat and looks down at Vulcan, who is lying at George’s feet. He doesn’t answer the question so George repeats himself. Alex realizes now that he should have asked before taking. It usually takes a lot to make George irritated, but occasionally something simple will do it. Either way, Alex hates to see his roommate in a bad mood.

“Alex, are you you wearing my sweatshirt?”

“Uh, maybe.” George raises his eyebrows. He hopes he hasn't upset his roommate. “ _Fine_. Yeah, I am. Mine are all dirty but I can take it off if you want me to.

“No, no,” George blurts out and then clears his throat. “It’s okay. It looks...good on you.”

Of course, _that_ is what causes a blush to start to creep its way onto Alex’s cheeks. They shouldn’t, Alex knows this, but compliments from George make Alex _melt_.

“T-thanks,” Alex stammers. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ears, feeling like an absolute idiot. Can’t even keep his own composure in front of his goddamn crush.

He knows that calling what he feels for George a crush is childish. It makes it seem like Alex is an eighth grader who likes the cute, quiet kid in his algebra class rather than a graduate student carrying a massive torch for his middle-aged, divorced roommate. But it’s the only word Alex can handle. Alex can’t call it love, he refuses to admit to it being so. If he did, he’d be letting a part of himself go. He’s not ready to do that. Not yet, at least.

Regardless, they are no match. George is a masterpiece fit for the Louvre. A perfect creation in not just looks, but in mind and spirit too. And what is Alex in comparison? He’s nothing. Just a scrappy kid trying to claw his way up in life.

He settles down into his spot on the couch and George puts an arm around him.

Alex feels like a kid in a toy store, reaching for the one toy he can’t have, the one too far up on the shelf. There are plenty of other, more attainable ones, but they’re not that _specific_ toy. He wants that toy, _needs_ that toy, despite knowing he’ll probably never get it.

Alex leans into George and rests his head on his roommate's shoulder. He looks up at George and in return, George flashes him that gorgeous smile of his; crinkled eyes, tooth gap, and all.

Alex keeps reaching.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @whamfan


End file.
